


What Remains Is Nothing Like

by rons_pigwidgeon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dominant Lucius, Infidelity, M/M, Object Penetration, Post-War, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Sub Harry, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/rons_pigwidgeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Narcissa discovers a hidden relationship between her husband and Harry Potter; what happens next?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Remains Is Nothing Like

**Author's Note:**

> Story also available in [Italian](http://www.nocturnealley.org/viewstory.php?sid=5388&ageconsent=ok&warning=11).

They met in cheap hotels in Muggle London, Lucius' penthouse flat in Manchester, villas in Tuscany and Provence, wherever they could find a spare hour or weekend alone. Their meetings had been going on for months, years, nearly a decade before anyone discovered it or even had an inclination that there was anything whatsoever between them. It was Narcissa who discovered them first. They had been at the flat, Harry tied to the bed, blind-folded, while Lucius tongue-fucked his arse. Neither of them had heard the front door or her nearly silent footsteps as she followed the noises of Harry's pleasure. They did not notice the extra light from the hallway or the soft gasp as Narcissa first saw them.

"What is this, Lucius?" Lucius was shocked to hear her voice, dripping with disgust. He looked up from Harry, spread out so wantonly for him, and was confronted with his wife. Harry froze beneath him, breath hitched, every muscle in his body twitching to understand what was going on. He could hear the rage in her voice, feel it in the air, and it filled him with more fear than Voldemort ever had.

"Narcissa, calm down. There is no need to over-react. Potter and I have simply been…"

"Fucking, obviously," she cut in before he could finish. She glared at him and drew her wand, her fingers shaking around the polished wood. "How could you? How could you do this to me? To us? To our son? He's Draco's age, isn't he? They were… enemies."

"We get along all right now…" Harry murmured weakly, struggling to pull away from his bonds and push the blindfold away so that he could see what was going on. Lucius absently pulled the strips of silk away, eyes ever on Narcissa's wand. His was near, but not near enough to block a hex if she decided one was necessary.

"It was an impulse, nothing serious. Just a way to… take the edge off. I still have desires left over from before…" He didn't say the last bit, knowing Harry didn't like to talk about his involvement with the Dark Lord unless they were mid-fuck and he needed a bit of violence. He stood with one last caress to Harry's forearm and walked cautiously to his wife. Her wand remained clenched in her shaking hand, but she didn't make a move. "I didn't want to hurt you, and Harry quite needed it as much as I do. I never told you because I knew it would upset you, and you've been upset enough for a lifetime, darling." He moved to touch her hair, meaning to soothe her, but she quickly moved away, wand held with more conviction.

"Do not touch me. You disgust me, the both of you." She turned her glare on Harry, who had sat up and was watching her with trepidation. "I saved your life and this is how you repay me? You are an abomination. I hope you can live with what you've done to me, to my family." She turned back to her husband, snarling. "You better hope you've made the right decision, because I am never speaking to you again." With a final sneer, she turned and left in a flourish of silk, her long hair flowing behind her.

The room was silent for several moments before Lucius turned to the bed. Harry stared back at him, unable to say anything. Eventually, Lucius came to him, sitting quite near without touching. "What do you think she'll do?"

"I've not a clue. I don't think she would divorce me; she'd lose the Malfoy name as well as access to the Manor."

"Do you think she'll tell the papers?"

Lucius paused, uncertain. Narcissa was angry enough to want to hurt them, but would she be willing to sacrifice her own dignity to do so? "I do not know. I suppose it depends on how much she thinks it would benefit her." Harry's eyes went wide and he immediately got out of bed and began searching for his clothing. Lucius reached out for his arm to stop him. "Where are you going?"

"Home. If she tells the papers, I can't risk being seen anywhere near you. I won't go through another media scandal. The divorce was bad enough, this would be a million times worse." He didn't make eye contact, choosing instead to concentrate on locating and pulling on his clothing.

"Stop." He laced his voice with the cold certainty of a master, and Harry froze immediately out of instinct. Lucius was allowed to pull him away from his twisted trousers and into his arms, where he made a point of turning Harry's eyes to him. "You are not going anywhere. If she goes to the media, we will deal with it, but you will not be leaving today. We are not finished. Now get back on the bed."

Harry hesitated, looking from his lover to the mattress and back. "I don't…"

"Are you defying me?"

"I…" He faltered, biting his lip. Lucius narrowed his eyes and Harry's uncertainty turned to panic. "No, sir. I would never." He quickly returned to the center of the bed and lay back, limbs out to be tied once more. Satisfied that he had subdued his lover, Lucius tied the silk and returned his tongue to Harry's pert little hole.

-

There was a week or so of quiet in which Narcissa sent messages through their son informing him that she would be staying the summer in France and that if he would be so kind as to spend that time relocating to whatever building he and his catamite chose to continue fornicating in, she would consider keeping the reason for their separation to herself. Draco hadn't looked pleased to have to convey the message, confused and a little angry that his father would have betrayed his mother in such a way. Lucius suspected it was because he hadn't thought to do the same to his own wife.

"I hadn't thought you were much interested in children, Father. You never much looked at any of my friends when I was still in school, at least not that I noticed." His voice was just on the cusp of disdain without quite reaching the point where Lucius would have to reprimand his impertinence.

Lucius restrained himself from sighing. "That would be because your mother has over-dramatized the situation, as is her habit. My lover is no more a boy than you are. In fact, he has children and an ex-wife of his own."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed."

"Do I know him?"

"You do. Do not ask me who he is; I will not tell you." The finality of that statement did not seem to appease Draco's never-ending curiosity, however, because he chose to sit in one of the leather chairs in front of his father's desk and stare him down until he spoke again. Lucius spent a good twenty minutes ignoring him, writing owls to his various brokers and lawyers and generally waiting out his son's patience. In the meantime, a small brown screech owl flew in with a note from Harry, telling him he wouldn't be available to meet any time that week. Odd, he had said previously that he would be completely open for the rest of the month. Something must have happened at work. He became so engrossed in thinking through scenarios likely to detain his lover that he nearly forgot his son was in the room until he was interrupted.

"It's Potter, isn't it?"

Lucius snapped his eyes immediately to his son. "What could you possibly be talking about, you foolish boy?"

Draco sat higher in his chair, nose stuck in the air indignantly. "I am no more a boy than Potter and that was his owl. Why else would he be contacting you, except to plan your next meeting? He matches everything you've already told me about the man: he's my age, he has three children, and he just divorced the Weaslette last year, did he not? I know the way your mind works, Father. Fucking him would be your greatest coup. You probably tie him up and whip him, don't you? Make him crawl on his knees, naked, to your side like a dog? Perhaps you—"

"That is quite enough. You may be an adult, but I am still your father and you do not address me in such a manner. My relationship with Mr. Potter, be it sexual or otherwise, is a private matter and no concern of yours."

Draco smirked, his face glowing with vicious glee. "Really, Father, I think you've lost your touch. I can see right through you, and I cannot believe you would degrade yourself enough to touch someone of such low caliber. Honestly, he was married to a Weasley; how much lower can you get really?" With one last sneer, he left the room before Lucius could respond, snapping the door shut behind him with the same dramatic flair as his mother.

Lucius sighed to the empty room and looked back down at Harry's letter. Unavailable, was he? Lucius would be damned if he permitted such an excuse to stop him from seeing his lover. He quickly penned a letter demanding Harry find time in his schedule or face severe punishment and sent it off with his own owl.

-

Unexpectedly, it was Draco's wife who told the Prophet, or rather her best friend, Ophelia, who happened to work for the Prophet. Once the article made the front page, it soon spread throughout the Wizarding World. Their savior caught in an illicit affair with a married Death Eater old enough to be his father was a bit more than the public could handle. Soon reporters were camped outside the Manor, Harry's flat, and the Manchester flat the lovers shared. Harry went into a panic and refused to leave his home for more than two weeks. He stopped taking Lucius' Floo calls, refused all his owls, and strengthened his wards so tightly that barely a fly could enter his flat without express permission. Lucius quickly became frustrated and lashed out violently as soon as Harry emerged from hibernation and appeared at their flat.

"What are you playing at, ignoring me? Do you think you have authority over me? I own you; you do not dismiss me," he growled as he grabbed Harry by the neck and slammed him against the nearest wall. Harry winced and pulled at the restricting hand, eyes filled with fear.

"Stop it," he choked out, tugging harder on Lucius' wrist.

"Answer me. What do you think you were doing?" He tightened his fingers around Harry's tender throat, closer and closer to cutting off his air supply

"I told you I couldn't…" He stopped struggling and took a deep breath, realizing that his resistance wasn't particularly working. "Couldn't be seen with you…" Another deep breath. "If the Prophet found out. Not after… not after Ginny…"

Lucius growled and pressed him harder into the wall. "She has nothing to do with this. You willfully ignored my attempts to contact you and now you are going to be punished. Strip." He let go of Harry's throat and took a step back. Harry hesitated for only a moment before swiftly removing his clothing. There was a pause as Lucius examined his naked form, eyes roving over thin, muscular flesh. "Turn and place your hands on the wall and do not move until I give you permission." Harry did as told and Lucius summoned his favorite leather Cat O' Nine Tails, black with a glass handle perfect for inserting if he so chose. He moved in closer to Harry and carefully ran the leather strips along his bottom. Harry dropped his head down, bracing himself for what was coming next.

SMACK! The whip connected with a soft groan from Harry. The hit was hard, but he knew it was the softest to come.

"Are you going to continue to let the media control our relationship?"

Harry hesitated and it earned him another slashing. "N-n-o, sir, not anymore."

"The next time I owl you, will you come immediately?" SMACK!

"Yes, sir."

"Are you certain?" SMACK!

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?" SMACK!

"Yes, Sir!"

Each smack came harder and harder until Harry's arse was red and showing signs of swelling. Harry's head had dropped as low as it could and he was shifting and crying out with every hit. He stopped just as the swelling began to really show, satisfied that Harry would feel the sting the next morning. "Spread your legs." Harry moved his legs apart and leaned further forward, presenting his arse the way he knew Lucius was demanding. Lucius soothed his swollen skin with a soft hand as he did a wandless lubrication charm, causing Harry to hiss at the cold sensation as well as the slight twinge of pain. Satisfied that he would not tear the skin so that he could not fuck him afterwards, Lucius moved the rounded glass handle of his whip to the newly lubricated entrance and pushed until it passed through all resistance.

Harry moaned loud and long, and leaned back into the intrusion. "Fuck."

"Patience, that will come." He pushed the glass further in and began to pump it, leaning his head down to bite at Harry's earlobe. "Tell me you want it."

Harry growled and pushed back harder. "Fuck… more. I want more. Do it harder."

Lucius smirked against his skin and shoved the whip harder in, making sure to hit the prostate. Harry called out and bucked a bit against him, beginning to pant. A few more minutes and Harry was tensing as though about to come. Lucius ripped the whip out of him before he could, causing him to call out loudly, and replaced it with his cock. "Mmm, you're so tight for me. Such a good little whore, aren't you?" he whispered in Harry's ear, tugging at it with his teeth. Harry groaned in response and pushed back against him.

A forceful fucking ensued. Harry quickly lost all coherency and devolved into a sobbing, whimpering mess, clenching onto Lucius wrist where his hand was planting above Harry's head, and begging Lucius to let him cum while Lucius streamed filthy things in his ear. Lucius dragged out their fucking, pulling out whenever he grew too close and barking orders for Harry to hold his own orgasm in, until finally he let go, snarling permission into Harry's ear and grinning at the ragged cry that followed. Harry's knees went out from the shaking aftermath and he crumpled to the floor. Lucius leaned his elbows against the wall and looked down at the black head leaning against his thigh. "Get to bed." Green eyes looked up at him, glassy with afterglow and so large.

"Bed?"

"Bed. I plan on fucking you in the morning to make up for your mistaken avoidance."

"But, Lucius, I don't… we don't…" One glare shut him up and had him standing shakily to head into the bedroom. Soon they were cleaned and in bed, Harry with his back to him. Lucius took the opportunity to pull him close and bury his nose in the marked skin at his neck, something he had never done before. Affection, real affection, was something new to them, but something Lucius had been craving since the absence of his wife. Harry stiffened in his arms and tried to pull away, but found that he could not. "What are you doing? I don't cuddle."

"You do what I tell you to do. Now settle down and go to sleep. I will be waking you early for that fuck, and I don't want you half-asleep for it."

Harry squirmed more and pulled at his wrists. "I don't cuddle. Let me go; I'm going back to my flat."

Lucius growled in his ear and held him closer. "I thought I taught you earlier to do as I say. Shall I have to administer another lesson so soon?"

After a few more failed protestations, there was a pause and then he said it. The word, the one word that had never left his lips in all the years of their relationship. Lucius froze, staring at him without any inclination as to what he should do. He had never imagined after the things that he had put Harry through that he would ever hear that word. And yet, here it was. "What could you possibly mean by saying that? What do you have to object to? I'm not hurting you in any way."

"You're breaking the rules. We aren't… we aren't here to comfort each other or cuddle or kiss. This isn't a relationship. I don't want you to touch me when we aren't fucking and I don't want to spend the night."

"What do you want, then?" He let him go and leaned up on his elbow to watch as Harry got out of bed and summoned his clothing.

"I… I don't know, but I need some time away. To think about this. About…" He looked from his dressing to Lucius, hesitation filling his expression to overflowing. "About us."

"You said there was no such thing."

"There isn't, but you seem to want it. Why else would you Floo me so insistently? I know you have others you could go to. Why be so persistent to see me? Especially with all the media around us? No, I need to think. I don't know if I can do this anymore, not when you're a free man."

"You are being absurd. Nothing has changed. You are still my little pain slut, regardless of my relationship with anyone else, including my wife."

"Nothing has changed? Are you crazy? Everything has changed! You don't have anyone to go home to anymore, so you insist that I stay. You never want me to stay, and if I do, you make me sleep on the floor. This isn't the same, and I don't think it will be again."

Lucius rolled his eyes heavenward. "You're being much too over-dramatic. Just come back to bed and settle down. You're over-thinking the situation."

"No, I don't think I can. I'll owl you when I've thought things through."

"You're just upset that your arse is tender; stop acting like–" But Harry was already out of the room and the woosh of the floo sounded throughout the flat before he'd even finished his sentence. Sighing, he dropped back to his pillow and closed his eyes. He stayed up that night, staring at the ceiling with one hand pressed against the empty sheets beside him, wondering if and when Harry would come back to him again.


End file.
